


Dancing On Broken Glass

by Sataniconions



Category: American Horror Story: Apocalypse, American Horror Story: Murder House
Genre: F/F, gay shit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-18 19:47:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29249022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sataniconions/pseuds/Sataniconions
Summary: After Constance's death, she finds herself stuck in the murder house, finding comfort in the woman she tortured the most.
Relationships: Constance Langdon/Moira O'Hara
Kudos: 1





	1. Chapter 1

Moira leaned against the doorway, arms crossing as she watched Michael hug Constance's lifeless body, sobs shaking through him. It felt strange to her. All these years she'd wished the woman dead and now that it had finally happened, it almost felt unbelievable. As if at any moment, Constance would awake and cough up the handful of pills she had taken. A small part of her wanted that to be the case. The thought of Constance's soul residing in the home, with the ability to torture her at any given moment left a bitter taste in her mouth. 

Her head slowly rested upon the wood, nearly praying the damned woman to wake. But her prays were silenced by the sharp click of heels behind her. Moira didn't need to turn to know who it was, the perfume, heels, and smell of aged liquor already being a dead give away. And yet she did. Constance stood close by, a single tear sat on her cheekbone, eyebrows knitted together. 

"Poor boy. I just couldn't take it any longer." With the pad of her thumb, Constance wiped away her singular tear, taking a long sip from the glass in her hand. "I'd rather spend eternity with my children than cleaning up his messes." 

"Isn't that a part of motherhood? Cleaning up after them when they make a mess?" Moira said softly, not wanting to ruin the moment. 

"I suppose so. I was always cleaning up after Tate." Constance began to shed a few more tears, and Moira watched as the small droplets rolled down her cheek, down to her neck. 

"I made some banana bread, if you'd like some?" Constance was taken back by the kind gesture and tone but she agreed, unable to face her lifeless body and weeping grandson any longer. 

-

Constance watched Moira cut a thin slice of freshly baked banana bread and place it on a porcelain plate. She set it down in front of the woman, taking a seat across from her. Constance lifted the slice to her lips and took a small bite, shutting her eyes at the richness of the loaf. 

"I must say, you've always been a great baker." Moira softly smiled, picking at her fingers. It was awkward between the two, as it should be. Moira had always obeyed Constance solely for the fact that she was living but now that they were on the same level, Moira knew a shift in their relationship was bound to happen. 

"Are you just saying that because we are stuck here together now?" Constance chewed slowly, knowing full well that now she was dead, Moira wasn't going to submit as easily. 

"Not exactly." Constance took another bite, averting her eyes away from the woman. "I guess this will change some things." 

Moira huffed, sitting up from her spot at the island. "It changes _everything_ , Constance. You'll finally know what it feels like to be trapped and powerless." Moira left the room, leaving Constance to her wondering, pity filled thoughts. 


	2. Chapter 2

Moira wiped the windows, her hand moving in a circular motion, the way Constance had taught her. It had been a week since Constance's death and the two were already causing more problems than they needed. Even Vivien and her were at each other's throats none stop, making it impossible for the three to be in the same room together. 

But Moira often kept her distance from the other spirits. Especially from Ben. Her mind wandered as she continued to clean the windows, until she was brought back by the sound of Constance clearing her throat. 

"You're leaving smudges." Moira signed, standing back and bringing her hands up, gesturing to the glass. 

"Where exactly?" Constance took Moira's hand, the damp cloth still clutched in her palm, and went over the lines carefully. Moira swallowed dryly as Constance's front pressed closely to her side. 

"There. If you're going to do this for all eternity, you might as well do it right." Constance let go of her hand and began to walk swiftly up the stairs. 

"If you don't like the way I do it, why don't you do it yourself?" Constance stopped, turning her head over her shoulder. 

"Bite your tongue and do your job." Constance vanished up the stairs. Moira left, bitter and not in the mood to clean any longer. 

-

Later on in the evening, Moira attended to the dishes, taking her time with each dish. Out of all the tasks she has to put up with to keep the house in mint condition, washing the dishes was her favorite. It allowed her to take her time and be at peace. No one, other than Vivien, interrupted her. Before she died, even Constance left her to her work in the kitchen. 

The kitchen was by far the most peaceful of the house. Even when she wasn't alone. Vivien drinking her tea and flipping through magazines or Constance hiding from her children, finding comfort in whatever dish she had Moira fix up for her. 

Just as her mind wandered to Constance, the woman entered the room. Moira took in a deep breath, her attention focusing on the bowl she was scrubbing. 

"Moira." The redhead closed her eyes, releasing a breath.

"Yes, Constance?" Moira put the bowl onto the drying rack, her hands finding another one in the soapy water. 

"I just- well, you see," Constance took a seat, eyes falling shut. "Do you mind taking your attention away from the dishes for just one moment?" Moira, with an annoyed sigh, shut the tap off. Drying her hands with her apron, Moira pressed her back against the counter. "Thank you." 

"What could you possibly be bothering me about?" Moira crossed her arms, a stern look hardening on her face. 

"Well, I just wanted to say I'm sorry for earlier. I understand that now, because of this difficult _predicament_ , we have to coexist. I no longer have the right to boss you around and I'm sorry I keep forgetting that." Moira was genuinely taken back but she wasn't dumb. She knew this was all an act. "So, do you accept my apology?" 

Moira clenched her jaw, "I know this pathetic attempt at reconciliation is just a way to make yourself feel better and really has nothing to do with my feelings." Moira turned back to the dishes, turning the tap on and continuing to scrub at the bowl. 

She paid no mind to the sound of the stool against the tile nor the sound of Constance's heels. Not until she felt a gentle hand against the small of her back. It startled her. The sudden gesture. A warmth caressed through her, a warmth she didn't know Constance could possess. 

"I do care about your feelings. I've had a lot of time to think about my actions. Especially towards you." Moira wet her bottom lip with her tongue, catching Constance's gaze briefly. 

"I doubt that-" Constance silenced her with a soft circular motion to the back, her hands running up to caress her shoulder blade. 

"Just give me a shot. Please." Moira, overwhelmed with the closeness of the other woman and the heat that was slowly spread through her, jolted away. 

"I've tried! But I know deep down you aren't sorry for everything you've put me through and you never will be! You're a selfish, pompous ass who could care less about others feelings!" Moira stormed out, leaving the sink filled with dishes. Constance let out a deep sigh, turning to the sink. Instead of leaving the dishes, Constance rolled up her sleeves and finished them for Moira. 


End file.
